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Many viewers know this disappointment. The second series of your favorite TV show drops on your platform, and your mind is full of hopeful expectation. The initial run ended so perfectly: future plotlines were teased tantalisingly, and a key figure faced a shocking fate – or did they?. After the season wrapped, you delved into fan discussions with other hardcores to decode subtle references illuminating what would happen next.

Unfortunately, the return episode disappoints. It seems as if the creative team was swapped for algorithms. Cut to the second episode, a beloved actor's character acts in a way that fans unanimously declare inconsistent. Halfway through the season, it’s clear that the showrunners have had collective amnesia regarding plot points heavily emphasized earlier. And by the disappointing finale, you silently wish that the show had just been cancelled.

The Downside of Too Many Seasons

Regretting a show's continuation is hindsight; audiences frequently rally against early axings. Consider Kaos, an amusing Greek myth parody starring Jeff Goldblum, which was binned by Netflix due to low viewing figures. But perhaps these fans will rest better with the knowledge the show's quality wasn't tarnished by a weak follow-up.

Reflecting on Yellowjackets, I now wish it had been a limited series. Season one had a creatively abundant premise, and every episode hit the right marks. In 1996, a plane carrying an all-girl high school football team crashes in the middle of nowhere. Excellent actors (with Juliette Lewis, Lauren Ambrose and Sophie Thatcher) portrayed the team then and now. Several prize nominations followed, creators confidently planned five seasons to fully explore the narrative. Recently, news broke of a season four conclusion. I felt grateful as a viewer.

The Stranger Things cast returns for season five.

Story decisions have weakened the core. In place of exploring post-rescue life, and their struggle with traumatic memories, the narrative expanded unnecessarily. That included the show’s tiring habit of bringing in and focusing on new characters (like the underdeveloped daughter Callie) who added little to the overarching plot. It's disappointing, and watching a beloved program become tedious is sad.

An Increasing Pattern

However, Yellowjackets isn't alone. Programs including Emily in Paris, House of the Dragon, Squid Game and Stranger Things lack original impact, and fallen headfirst into expected or comfortable cliches. At times, programs must stop while successful.

Actually, benefits come from self-contained series. From Sharp Objects to I May Destroy You to Adolescence, producers recognize appropriate conclusion points. But the game is over when shows such as Big Little Lies, initially a one-season story, come back for more and more with diminishing returns. Maybe Adolescence's creators hesitated about continuing.

The Perfect Example

I desired Yellowjackets as a single-season show, residing permanently in our thoughts, cliffhangers and all. The best program I've seen succeeded this way. My So-Called Life, the quintessential youth program, lasted for only one season but achieved film-like breadth: the personalities were complex and inconsistent, the visuals were beautifully seasonal, and the dialogue was untethered from the normal “teen speak written by a 35-year-old” trope. Its final episode was bitterly unresolved, but that is perfectly in keeping with the reality of youth queries staying forever open. After 18 great episodes (and one mediocre), I mourned its end and drafted follow-up stories to answer some of those questions. Despite existing on obsolete equipment, it demonstrates television's powerful connection.

The Sacred Bond

When producers honor the special viewer-program bond, more programmes can bow out when the time is right.

• This writer focuses on cultural topics.